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Topic: Back in the Day (Chapter I) (Read 72209 times)

Kadarin noted the charades put on by Vee. Hmm. He wants me to blind-cast the spell into the cave? I really need to know where they are first.

Kadarin carefully listened to the noise from the cave, and waited until he saw something... As soon as it seemed obvious something was existing the cave, he would start his chant, and time it to end when they came into view, even if he had to hold the last syllable for bit.

--Kadarin could not yet spot a target in the deep, dark cave. He waited, and listened to the great commotion.

--"Kill him!" Mingo bellowed as he violently swung his blade in a big arc, just barely missing the half-ogre in the sudden dark.

Vorodon was quickly making his way to the back of the cave, knowing that soon the brigand's eyes would begin to adjust to the near-darkness.

"Kill him!" he heard Mingo again, and then a shot of pain erupted in the half-ogre's shoulder as one of Tib's terrible weapons connected, while Vorodon ran past the pernicious man with the twin flails. Tib was swinging wildly with both flails in all directions, and blindly struck with one. Vorodon cursed the idiot's luck and proceeded toward the canopied bed, ignoring the pain, lancing from his shoulder, to other parts of his body.

He heard Bigbones dropping the chest she was hauling to the cave floor and the huge woman was now moving in the darkness as well. She was well behind Vorodon, he spied, but heading toward him.

"Com' an' play with me lover!" she screamed, raising her bardiche as she moved.

Vorodon was now by the bed. So far so good, the half-ogre thought. Only a big bruise to show for his sneak attack at the moment. His cousin Gargodin would laugh at him, Vorodon thought, if the Volgottor had called it a 'wound'.

"He's here, he's here! I smell him!" Hamako shouted panicked, but stayed on the bed, too scared to move, groping in front of him, and squinting through the darkness.

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Aerex's head snapped toward the cave as he heard shouts coming out of the darkness. He quickly nocked an arrow onto his bow and hobbled forward. "Cover me," he said to Tristan. With his wounded leg, he would have to keep his distance from any combat that proceeded from the cave, but he wasn't going to let himself be useless either.

Well, clearly something was going on in there. Talia didn't really know how many were in the cave, but decided to wait for Vee's cue. Undoubtably, he could hear better than she could. And she'd fought in the dark enough for the time being.

(Hold action until Vee moves in, unless there is an obvious threat. If there is, she'll try to deal with it as quickly as possible.)

Moruz stayed outside the cave, but his hands were twisting anxiously on the holds of his Ouzala, "We're losing the opportunity to attack in the confusion! It sounds as though they are all focused on one target, and we could easily gain the advantage in the confusion." Moruz's gaze passed quickly over the rest of the group, "If we lose the advantage of the surprise, we may end up with another fallen. Perhaps Vee and Aerex can move in first and do what they did to the two guards back at the river, then we can come in behind, throw a few torches to the ground to add to the confusion, then quickly move to dispatch what remains."

“I will never be brigand like you!” Vorodon shouted as he heaved a pair of darts past the wildly flailing Tib and into the bandit leader. As he moved hurriedly away from the bed, “Bigbones” worried him; she seemed able to see better than the others. Could she be Volgotoi? Distracted momentarily by the thought, he blundered into the chest that Mingo had earlier been pawing through, knocking it onto its side! As he stumbled to his knees, the loot of dozens of robbed caravans and murdered travelers scattered and rolled across the chamber’s floor; silver incense burners and bronze plates, ancient scrolls and spools of fine woolen thread; the bandits’ bloody trail of death written in a trail of treasure.

He barely had time to draw another dart before his foes closed on him.

The druid turned his face downward to look into the eyes of the dwarf. In the dim light, his hollow features seemed gruesomely skull-like, his thin lips slightly baring pale teeth like slats of a white fence, his red face paint and crimson-dyed throat offsetting his skin and making his pallor seem all the more corpselike. His voice was slow, deep, sepultural, like an intonation."Learning? Mountain child, learning is the settled man's way, and the faith of these people is nothing but a farcical dance. But I have had a long and lonely wandering, and though it goes against my better thoughts, I crave the comforts of companionship."

--Confusion reigned inside the cave. Mingo was screaming and frothing at the mouth. Tib the Terrible swung his flails as he ran toward the screaming Hamako, but tripped and nearly crashed into the mahogany armoire, some ten feet from Vorodon. As for Hamako, himself, he had had enough. The mage crawled under the bed and hid in the musky darkness, silent as a mouse. At that very moment, Vorodon heaved his projectiles at the enraged Mingo, hearing one of them strike home as the bandit's fearsome cursing gave way to a muffled cry of anguish.

Bigbones kept comin as was now upon the Volgottor. His earlier instincts proved correct, Vorodon had time to think, before the woman's gruesome bardiche came down smashing his breastplate head on with the force of five men, tearing through the metal, and into the giant's flesh. Blood from Vorodon's chest wound gushed freely. She did have some mongrel Volgotoi blood in her, Vorodon thought, and now she had pure Volgotoi blood all over her as well. Bigbones snarled and brought her fearsome weapon over her head to strike once more, only briefly noticing all the scattered loot on the floor of the cave.

Perhaps it was the deep thigh wound, which stirred a new plan inside of Mingo's murky skull.

" 'Bones! Tib! Out of the cave, now! The traitorous filth has no where to go!" he screamed maniacally and staggered toward the exit, Vorodon's dart imbedded deeply in his thigh. He left, "You can die like a dog, I care naught for you, Hamako!" unsaid. It was assumed.

"He's busting open the chests!" Tib yelled in retort, "He's taking the treasure!"

"Taking it where you brainless, motherless toad?! He has no where to go! Out of the cave!" , Mingo's voice echoed in retort. The bandit leader was nearing the exit, momentarily bumping, but surpassing the armoire, Vorodon had shoved there earlier. Just get into the light, Mingo thought to himself.

Tib began moving toward the exit as well, stumbling and kicking through the contents of the chest to get to Mingo, in the darkness.

Vorodon's fear was confirmed. Bigbones could see him as he could see her, and worse, she had tasted blood. She had no interest now in leaving the cave, not until her quarry was butchered.

<<<Vorodon has taken 8 points of damage, and has now won initiative.>>>

--Vee could hear the maddened bandit leader's approach. The one called Mingo. Twenty more feet Vee thought, and Mingo would make it into the light.

--Quite spontaneously, or perhaps due to some involunatry impulse, both Aerex and Tristan turned back to the burial grounds for a moment. What they saw chilled their bones. A large halfling, a head taller than the previous ghouls had been, clad and wrapped in worm-eaten gray robes and bandages, face unseen, sporting a plain iron crown atop its bulbous head, and carrying what looked like a perverse "rod of office" or sceptre, shaped like a phallus, was quickly approaching the companions, still forty feet away but closing ground with an unnatural speed belying its form. Both Aerex and Tristan, suddenly felt an incredibly strong wave of nausea. The priest paled, but stood his ground. The investigator vomitted uncontrollably, despite being cognizant and in control of his body.

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

To Talia, at least, it seemed that time slowed. She wasn't too sure what had happened inside, but whatever it was seemed to be driving the occupants out. She only really saw the first one, though. She supposed he must be Mingo; she remembered his face well enough. As she swung her fan forward, she wasn't really seeing the cave or the startled look on his face. She was elsewhere, remembering.

Garreto trying to buy a little time for his wife by standing unarmed against four bandits. Jarel getting cut down trying to defend his aging father, who fell to another attack not a moment later. Xyn screaming in fury as he saw his brother die, and charging like a madman, only to be killed before he could throw a single blade. Asari pleading , promising that she'd do anything they wanted if only they'd let the baby live. The children trying to hide in one of the wagons. Flames and smoke and blood and screaming and crying and death everywhere...

The fan plunged straight into Mingo's stomach, instead of slashing. Hot blood covered Talia's hand, but she only noticed it in the context that she'd scored. She swung her other fan around, higher. "Look at me," she snarled. "I'm the fury of a hundred people or more who never harmed anyone. You made a hundred ghosts that day. It's time you joined them."

“What is your name, woman?” Vorodon asked in the guttural language of the Volgotoi as he lunged forward past her weapon’s swinging blade and grabbed at her. “Why are you striking at me? Surely you do not desire that puny one? He is fit only as food!”

(OOC: Vorodon hopes to grapple her, even if seduction is not his idiom.)

The taste of bile filled Aerex's mouth as the wave of nausea paused but briefly. He could see only one difference between the other ghouls and this one: that wretched rod it carried. "Get rid of it's sceptre!" he exclaimed before dry-heaving again. Even as he disgorged his stomach, Aerex fumbled to steady his bow and arrow at the beast. What I wouldn't give for this thing to shoot flaming arrows... he thought mournfully.

Kadarin saw the first figure burst forth from the cave, but almost immediately Talia was upon him with her wicked fans.Too close - Don't want to get her too. Then an odd sound behind him, a gasp, followed by retching.

Turing to see what was going on, he saw the same Ghastly figure that had affected the inspector.

I hope Tristan's still in good with his Liege...though Kadarin, thinking wildly on what to do.

The sound of footsteps charging to the cave entrance shattered any plans of entering that cave, but presented an equally advantageous opportunity for ambush. The first man burst into the light and was immediately stopped short by an enranged Talia, who sheathed her fan inside his stomach and uttered something Moruz couldn't quite make out. Moruz nearly made a move, but paused at the sound of a second lot of footsteps behind the sound of the rain, moving for the exit to the cave as well. There was some commotion behind the glass shifter, and he thought he heard someone empty his stomach, but right now he was focused on whoever was inside the cave. As Moruz stood beside the entrance, he clenched his Ouzala in anticipation.

<<Current standing orders: Moruz is waiting beside the cave entrance for whoever else is coming out. He will wait until that person (Tib) makes an appearance then swing his Ouzala in a wide arc at the man in the hope of striking before Moruz is noticed. >>

"Ey, a settle(r)d people we are, though you deem it an insult. Me, I see no shame in it; it's every dwa(rr)rf's wish to ha(r)ve a n(r)ice piece of gr(r,r,r, etc.)ound to call his own, where he can labor(r!) and which he can for(rr)tify and tend to, a need as f(r)undamental as a mountain's heart-r(r!)ock."Glordren chugged the rest of the Hot'n'Spicy down my throat, shuddering pleasantly. "And, as fer the faith, ever(r!)y one wor(r)ships the go(r)ds closest to him - I see no Elf sing pr(r!)ay(arr) to a go(r)d of cr(r!)aft, fer you know, I know of no Elf close to honest wor(r!)k!"Having merrily added a bit of (fully justified) racial commentary, the dwarf eyed his strange fellow. "You're a smar(r)t one. Speaking and looking like you do, I bet mo(r)st scum don't bother you the least bit."

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

Vee turned to see Aerex empty then wan contents of his stomach, and for a moment Vee had a fear of the Inspector, as much of a pain as he was, turning into a ghoul, then he saw the Hobbit Lord of the Dead. His hand itched to pluck the crown off of it's worm eaten head, but he had other things to deal with. Hopefully Tristan and Trigu could send it into a retreat, maybe even Dujek...he wasnt sure what the necromancer could actually do.

He lifted his crossbow as the bandits started to emerge, and he held his shot as Talia exacted her revenge, that was a personal matter he had no interest in getting into. Vee pointed the crossbow at the next to emerge from the cave (Tib?) and let his bolt fly.

(OOC - Shoot Tib as he emerges. I hope Vorodon can handle 'bones and Tristan and crew can handle the HLotD)

Hope Vee, Moruz and Talia can handle the bandits, looks like I've got more urgent issues...

Letting the Sleep spell dissappear from his mind, Kadarin shifted his attention to the abomination quickly closing.

Not sure if I can affect the critter, but that crown....

Quickly, Kadarin began invoked the Enlarge spell, recently cast and more recently returned somehow through the Mute. Going through the encantations and gestures, he stopped at the end, reversing a key gesture and causing Reduction.

<ooc - Trying to shrink the crown, hoping it either pops off the top, or better yet, crushes the skull.. >

Jjuldae blinked slowly."You are correct- I am unmoved by these, and most other settled ones. And I would differ with you. The ground is yours neither to have nor to own, but of itself, and all of us, ultimately, shall commend ourselves to it. But let us not have words in this..." the man gazed around. "...foetid den. I prefer to be outside, under the open sky."

A wave of aching nausea washed over Tristan, like a black tide from an ocean of evil. Trigu had created life, but this creature, this monster, was a mockery of life, an abomination of all that he and his brothers stood for. That was why he had joined the Crimson Order, to rid the world of repugnant sights such as this. His mace seemed to appear in his hand it was drawn so fast, and a fire the likes of which had not been seen in ages was borne in Tristan's eyes. This creature was another of the plague that had reduced the noble Aethelstan to nothing more than shredded meat rotting on the bloodstained ground, and all the fury, all the holy rage that was denied the former undead would be unleashed upon this filthy desecration.

Blind to the fight behind him, Tristan began reciting a prayer known only to members of the Crimson Order long dead, one that he had parchance read in an old tome in the cathedral library.

Knowing himself to be unable to fight, he turned instead to the undead. Looking at it from this distance he tried to figure out just what it was, at least before his fellows tore off every appendage on it, including its head.

"Well Koschei, you're right about one thing. I'll have to keep at least some of my studies out of the brownclad one's sights."

OOC: Finally got around to naming the lizard.

Logged

For the love of meat, shut up! No one wants to hear your emo character background! My hands are literally melting away, and I'm complaining less than you!—K'seliss, Goblins

--The last thing Hamako heard before he died was the sound of wood cracking, then silence, followed by darkness.

--Bigbones, the normally stoic, fearsome quarter-ogre was visibly startled when Vorodon rushed forward, beneath the hovering bardiche, shoving the gruesome woman as gently as possible onto the canopied bed and onto her back. He had not considered the weight involved however. As the two behemoths plunged downward, the ancient mahogany cracked, the four, clawed legs gave way, and a near half ton of half-ogre, quarter-ogre, and bed, crashed down two feet.

A muted gasp and then a truly sickening popping sound emerged from beneath the weight.

--Bigbone’s bardiche was still clutched in her outstretched meaty paws, the weapon now stretched across the bed horizontally. Vorodon was now nose to nose with the woman who had nearly killed him a moment earlier with one strike. Her putrid onion breath was strong enough to kill beetles, Vorodon thought, as he looked deeply into her yellowed, porcine eyes. For her part, Bigbones stared back, then made a gurgling, obscene noise, passed gas, and spoke.

“Maybe Mingo can wait”, she uttered in a garish attempt at a whisper. “I nearly killed you. You still bleed like a stuck boar, yet you wish to know me now? Your warm blood is making Bigbones warm too! Come then", she grinned, showing her rotted teeth. "Show me what a Volgottor can do! I can kill you after.” Bigbone’s beefy hand began to grope, feeling for a codde piece.

--Mingo gasped, and his eyes bulged in disbelief as Talia whispered to the Bandit-King’s brother. His hands went instinctively to his stomach in a meek attempt at dislodging the weapon now deep inside him. He murmured something incomprehensible and stared incredulously at his platinum-haired executioner. The fire burning in the gypsy's eyes, scared him more now, than the thought of dying and all the Nine Hells combined!

“You…I—“ Finally his hand went to his sword, a wince of excruciating pain creasing his features. Bleeding profusely, Mingo managed to raise his sword and swing. He is fast, despite it all, Talia thought, but not fast enough. She easily sidestepped the pitiful attack, and the redheaded, pale and mortally wounded Mingo was now hers to do with as she pleased….again.

--Dujek stared at the approaching nightmare and pondered the creature’s “species”. It took him only a few moments. Ghast! It meant this creature could create countless ghouls! This was their leader. Dujek wasn’t sure whether to despise or admire the coming horror. Koschei squirmed inside its master’s cloak.

“Why did you name me after the Deathless One, master? The greatest Lich the world has ever known.”

--Tristan exploded in a holy rage! Aerex had time to fire before turning and staring at the nearly palpitating priest. It was as if the young holy man was taking a life’s worth of frustrations out on the coming Ghast, the hetman of the ancient halfling tribe of Wurmzytter, and now the King of Ghouls.

--Aerex’ arrow was heading straight for the horrifying figure. Instead of striking the creature’s chest and burying itself half a foot into its putrid flesh however, the arrow sailed through the ghast, as if passing through hair, harmlessly vanishing into the rain.

--Foaming at the mouth, veins bulging from beneath his brow, his scar pulsing red and angry, mace held high, Tristan rushed directly at the ugly stain of Unlife, chanting the prayer of the Crimson Order with all his strength and with the greatest and purest, conviction!

--Kadarin cast his spell, the words sounding familiar to Moruz, as he ran past the suddenly potent young mage they had rescued. The creature’s crown shrank from sight, disappearing from view.

--Aerex nearly gasped himself, as he watched the ghast suddenly stop its advance, rear its wrapped, crowned head back, as if it had met some invisible resistance, and shrieked an appalling deathscream, which could only be described as a great, wet, sucking noise. Suddenly in a matter of seconds, the ghast simply came apart in the pouring rain, bandages, robes, scepter, and its actual essence, disappearing from existence, wisps of gray, flying in all directions.

<<<I rolled a Nat. 20 Tristan!! You destroyed the ghast outright in lieu of turning it!!>>>

--Tib saw the light. Then saw a bolt whistling toward his eyes. He felt no pain when the missile pierced head. Tib only felt the warmth of the afternoon air, despite the rain. With bolt firmly implanted in skull, Tib raised his flails and advanced, then stumbled, falling into the muck. By the time Moruz approached the fallen bandit, Tib was dead, still clutching a flail in each outstretched hand. Suddenly Moruz turned toward Vee, as the rogue danced a quick jig, and momentarily whooped and hollered in honor of his own killing shot.

<<<I rolled another Nat. 20!! I kid you not. Dang!! That will never happen again!! Also, Tib was already injured from earlier ghoul’s raid>>>

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

--Another of the scroll's riddles ran through Glordren's mind. He had learned to work these out in his head over the years, while still effectively conversing, as he was now, with the strange, but fascinating man before him.

"The Seventh Hand upon the door, The Seventh Foot upon the floor, shall open all."

--Though he didnt show it, Jjuldae was on edge. For two weeks he had been followed by the unnatural beast, and for two weeks it drew ever closer, as if toying with the druid. Jjuldae absentmindedly rubbed the wolfsbane sprig in the pocket of his robe. The taut, stretched, skin of the druid's swarth face did not betray any consternation or emotion.

--The Landlubber Inn was all abuzz in gossip and rumor. The place was full this night, and the gypsy, caravan folk, chattered like a flock of geese before flight. Perhaps appropriately, autumn’s first winds had come this night as well, droning against the rolling ship’s “hull” and driving the rain against the creaking wooden beams. In fact Glordren found it odd, that the strange druid even suggested the pair go outside. For his part, Jjuldae’s eyes rarely left the darkened, rain-battered window.

--As the priest and druid spoke in the corner of the taproom, Ueraffa spotted them and made her way over to the pair. A dwarf and a nature priest of some sort, she thought, as she nearly cackled, a more superstitious duo could not exist under Koho’s Moons!

Random Inn conversation:

*“Did ya’ hear? Jervoe is no more! The bandit-King nd his vile brood is dead! Heard from one o’ escaped prisoners, I did! Dabble the Good, Mumwertz’ man, he called himself. Says they wuz rescued by giants!”

*“I heard they were killed by vile priests!”

*“Vile priests indeed! Haha, yur daft, Rennick! I know what happened. I had me’ a drink with one James Barley, right before your scrawny arse showed up tonight. He says, it was a glass golem that ran roughshod through the lot o’ them brigands!”

*“Twasnt a drink, Nate, twas quite a few, if I reckon right! Yur both headless hens! Jervoe’s juss spreading dem’ rumors! Wants idiots like you to think the roads be safe again! Fools!”

*“Tomorrow they hang Hanging Kang again. Can anyone lend me a silver to see it?”

--“Well met”, a bald, haggard crone, wrapped in grass-green shawl, addressed Jjuldae and Glordren in turn. “Madame Ueraffa I am called. I can see the spirits whirl around you like snakes of smoke and shadow! Share your ale and broth, and I shall portend your futures, for a few coin more, I shall tell ye your fates! What say ye Dwarf? And you, painted one?”

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Talia snapped the fan that was swinging at Mingo shut just before it hit. It plunged into the side of his neck, and she used it to pull him closer to her. "Gypsies don't forget and they don't forgive." She snapped the one buried in his torso shut, then twisted it. "This is my revenge." She snapped the one in his stomach open again, the blades tearing through him parallel to his spine. Then she leaned even closer to him, only a few inches from his face. "Just imagine what those hundred angry gypsies will do to you when you join them." Then she hooked one leg around his, pulling it out from under him. He toppled backwards, the fan in his neck ripping his throat out as he did.

Vorodon rapidly realized the magnitude of his error. This woman was not just Volgotoi; she was “Senan Karnat”, one of the rare Volgottor half-breeds where the Volgotoi part of her spirit was corrupted and twisted. Kill him later! No self-respecting female of the Volgotoi would say such a thing, especially if she meant it. Additionally, she had heard him deceive her lover, persuading him with half-truths and outright lies like a woman would. How could she possibly want him after that shameful display? She must be the most depraved woman he’d ever met!

I’m glad I tied those knots solidly, thought the uneasy warrior as “Bigbones” fumbled awkwardly with his clothing. As soon as her hands were off of her gory polearm, he rolled off the bed, taking the bardiche with him!

“You Crazy Lady! I NEVER be brigand like you!” he shouted in his badly accented common as he desperately tried to escape from the impassioned slattern. He briefly regretted his decision as he fled; if Mingo couldn’t do better than this in this desolate region, how could he possibly find a woman? Still, it was better to risk being killed by this harpy than to let this go any further. “You leave me alone, brigand lady! I don’t want kill you!”

(OOC: With ye famili-arr enuff with Glordren's way of speaking, I will (mostly) omit the excess 'r', as to make posts more legible. Will supply 'r's again on demand, or when I deem it fit)

Glordren turned to the crone, grinning: "Ey, thanks, but you be having none of my coin - 'tis my private fortune teller!" he pointed to Jjudae. "Come, sir, let us go outside and brave the rain, and soak up... nature's ... whatever nature has that can be soaked up except for this sleet."

He pulled his cloak tighter around him, careful that no part of dwarf meets with too many parts water. Outside he grumbled: "Humans and orkses and elves! Always trying ter take what to a dwarf belongs! I serve a godess of trade, not freakin' Ilmater *pause, look to the skies* blessed be his name though, too."

Nature's loving embrace falling all over Glordren in bucketloads, the dwarf added: "I suggest we find a few more brave souls willing to journey on the quest for knowledge and adventure, as well as a nice bushy tree under which mother nature is not as loving as here." Watching rain dripping off the tip of his nose, Glordren turned to the skies again: "No need to water me this much; I don't need to grow, I'm big enough!"

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

Moruz's Ouzala swung through thin air and caused the glass warrior to dance on one foot, nearly losing his balance as Tib uttered a faint "oh..." beneath his breath and sunk to the ground, the shaft of a crossbow bolt protruding from his forehead almost comically. His over-swing caused Moruz to turn, and his eyes fell upon Vee, who was in the middle of shuffling on his feet in dance. A smirk curled it's way upon Moruz's lip, "About time you did something right, Outlander." The comment was not said harshly, however; and the glass shifter raised his barbed spear in a mock salute, his expression suggesting a somewhat amused respect.To his side, Talia was in the midst of the execution of Mingo; Moruz paid this no heed. After all, he was going to do something very similar to Percy at one stage. All trivialities were wiped from Moruz's expression, however, at the sound of lumbering footsteps - much larger than a human - making their way towards the cave entrance. Instantly back in the calm of battle, the glass shifter turned his Ouzala to point directly at the entrance, and he crouched in a defensive stance, ready and waiting...

<< If Vorodon makes it out of the cave, Moruz WILL attack unless someone (Vorodon or otherwise) gives him reason not to. He will attempt an immobilising shot e.g. a hamstring.>>